


cold water

by subtlize



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 14:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17623841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtlize/pseuds/subtlize
Summary: An explosion sounded just beyond the trees to his left and Lance squeezed his eyes shut. As of late, comparing himself to his other teammates had become something close to a habit. If they could manage, he should be able to as well. If he slipped behind too much, what was keeping him from being replaced? If he couldn’t do it, they’d find someone better. Someone much more capable. Someone able to be a real soldier, unlike him.//I cant guarantee steady uploads of this fic, since I float in and out of hating what I write and absolutely despising it, I'm sorry





	cold water

It was during battle when Lance felt it.

It was as if a bucket of cold water had doused him, drenching him from head to toe in a sudden shocking sensation of complete dread. He sucked in a sharp breath and ducked behind his cover.

The battle had been a long one, the team trying effortlessly to protect an unprepared species the Galra crept up on. Apparently, as the team was realizing, it was a small part of a bigger plan: Zarkon had meant to attract Voltron, knowing they’d come running if they heard an innocent planet was in danger, especially one without much amour or defences. A back-up team was waiting to swoop in and take the lions by force, and it had been ugly ever since. Keith and Shiro were protecting the lions while Pidge and Hunk were defending the creatures. Lance was sharpshooting from above, keeping an eye on everything from a different angle, Allura and Coran intervening with the castle ship when they could.

After hours had passed, or what had seemed like hours, Lance could barely feel his arms anymore and his aim faltered with every minute that stretched on. His exhausted brain was having a hard time processing and he was getting sloppy; missing more shots and hitting more wall than the enemy. He wasn’t even sure what he was anticipating anymore… for the Galra to retreat or Voltron to give up.

It happened every so often that Lance would undergo an unexpected, overwhelming sense of remorse during a particularly long battle. Ones that dragged on too long caused Lance’s thoughts to spiral. He figured it was probably because killing people for a living went far against everything he ever stood for. Although defending the galaxy was sort of necessary, he couldn’t help but feel out of place sometimes. More often than not, Lance had to hold off from thinking intently about what he’d done; keeping that door under lock and key until he had time to resurface everything and deal with it properly. It was hard, but he survived that way, the only way he knew how. He couldn't picture himself having a panic attack every other battle, heading back to the ship early to deal with his shit and failing as a Voltron paladin. A defender of the universe. He was Voltron now, and every action he did counted towards something, he wasn’t just looking out for himself anymore, this was the whole universe’s fate on his shoulders.

An explosion sounded just beyond the trees to his left and Lance squeezed his eyes shut. As of late, comparing himself to his other teammates had become something close to a habit. If they could manage, he should be able to as well. If he slipped behind too much, what was keeping him from being replaced? If he couldn’t do it, they’d find someone better. Someone much more capable. Someone able to be a real soldier, unlike him.

Like Keith.

Like Shiro.

It made sense to him, and he wanted to avoid that alternative as much as possible. He could do it. He could do it.

It was no secret that Lance looked up to Shiro, he’d made it rather evident ever since they met. Shiro had been through worse, lost his team and been tortured for years… lost his arm. Forced to fight other prisoners. And… And what had Lance been through? He was only just a prisoner in his own circle of hell. If Shiro could stop his thoughts from spiralling into something too precarious to trek back from, Lance knew he could too. He more than anything wanted to make Shiro proud, to keep up with him. To walk beside him instead of stumbling behind.

His eyes were suddenly blown open with an unexpected smack to the back of the head. He gasped and whirled around to meet glowing yellow eyes that narrowed into an expression Lance couldn’t pin down. Without hesitation, Lance threw a punch back and kicked his stomach, sending the Galra soldier back into a tree. Lance prodded for his bayard that was knocked out of his hands. The Galra stood up laughing, clenching and unclenching his fists as if he was on the brink of coiling into a manic episode.

“Lord Zarkon would prefer the Champion, but the Blue Paladin will do,” he snarled and Lance charged his bayard. It made a distinct whirring sound and Lance felt his stomach twist.

“Although I appreciate the invite,” Lance aimed the shot and took it, the Galra hadn’t had any chance with the advantage Lance had against him. “I’ve made other commitments.”

The Galra soldier fell to the ground like dead weight. Dead weight.

Lance’s arms started to tremor for the umpteenth time that day and he let out a sigh, collapsing his bayard. He crouched down behind the slate and closed his eyes again.

Specifically, he realized, he more than anyone compared himself to Shiro. It had become more obvious to Lance that he often felt like he was carrying extra weight no one else seemed to be hauling. He knew everyone had their own internal battles, but Lance’s battles didn’t feel justified. It was like a puzzle that was impossible to solve because one of the pieces was missing.

_“Lance?”_

He was dragged back from his thoughts with his name being called. He only then realized how hot he’d become with the warmth from the bomb licking at his face and through his armour. There was static and then it was said again.

 _“Lance?”_ It was Shiro. _“Are you okay? We need you down here.”_

It had only felt like seconds that Lance was being consumed by his own thoughts. He gripped his bayard tightly, swallowing around a lump forming in the back of his throat and mumbled something that mocked a “yeah” through the com.

He turned around and balanced his arm on the slate, shooting three Galra edging towards Pidge and Hunk in the head. Luckily for Lance, the battle didn’t persist much longer after that. It hadn’t been much of a secret that the Galra weren’t really there to attack the innocent planet, but there for Voltron. The Galra had only drew back because all their soldiers had been either killed or left unconscious in the muddy terrain. Lance tried not to let it bother him too much as they headed back to their lions. It was a _hard_ battle, Lance could see it written on everyone’s faces. Exhaustion picked at Pidge the most, he noticed, her mouth curved down in a permanent frown and eyebrows pinched together as she narrowly avoided stepping in pools of blood and mud. It was hard to tell which was which, the ground a massacre of lifeless bodies and shreds of lost innocence. _Pidge was so young—_

His veering mind was interrupted by a sudden jolt of vibration through the ground, his eyes finding Blue galloping towards him. She slid to a stop right in front of him and opening her mouth, splashing Lance with mud.

“ _Aw_ , c’mon Blue I just washed this!” Blue sent a warm frisson through his brain and he couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He crouched down and packed together a clump of mud in his hands.

“Well now you did it, Beautiful. It’s on.” He chucked the mud as high as he could, the mud slapping down just shy of her nose. Blue stomped her front paw and sprayed Lance completely. He dragged a hand down the front of his helmet and flicked mud to the side. Her energy was taunting and playful like she was daring him to throw more mud. His better judgement decided they should probably get back to the castle. Blue pranced a couple more times, spraying Red in the process, then finally bent down to let Lance in. He would need to wash her before he went to bed tonight so the mud didn’t make her uncomfortable, get all up in her gears and junk like that— he’d made that mistake before.

“Good job, team,” Shiro opened a group call through the coms when they were in the air. “We won’t brief when we get back because I know everyone’s exhausted.” There was a loud sigh from Pidge and Lance groaned out a “yuh-huh!” in agreement. “But I expect everyone to get a good sleep before training tomorrow, normal time.”

There was a collective groan from the two youngest paladins, which Allura interrupted with her typical lecture about the importance of training. Then Coran suggested to set a loud “afflewugger” in the morning so everyone knew to wake up, which started an argument between Hunk and Pidge that Lance tuned out.

When they got back to the hangar and docked their lions, only the hallway and hangar lights were on. Coran had set up an automatic feature that turned off the lights when it got to a certain time to help the paladins feel more like they were switching between day and night. Adjusting to space without the distinct perception of time and seasons was hard on Lance at first, but he eventually got his sleep schedule balanced, just like everyone else. Shiro was the best adjusted, considering he had been trapped in space for months before. Even though Lance knew he slept the least, ridden by nightmares and flashbacks of his time as a Galra prisoner.

“Coming to bed?” Hunk asked, stopping in the hangar’s doorway, his helmet tucked under his arm.

“Oh, no. Not yet. I need to clean off Blue.” He patted her arm and leaned against it. Blue adjusted, making Lance lose his balance momentarily before her big robotic head was nuzzling up against his back. Mud splashed onto his neck, and Hunk laughed before saying goodnight. The door swished shut and Lance was alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't guarantee steady uploads and I'm sorry about that, I do really love this fic so I'm trying to motivate myself by posting it. As always, comments (and just, general engagement lol) are very much appreciated.


End file.
